


Pleasant Rituals

by Crocochoo



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Grocery Shopping, Obsessive Behaviour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:23:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crocochoo/pseuds/Crocochoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Fic - Hannibal goes to the grocery store, where he collects his food with as much thought as he does with his meat.</p><p>Originally written for The Hannibal Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleasant Rituals

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something for the Hannibal TV show since last week but I'm not a huge fan of the smutty prompts on the kink meme only because I'm not on the shipping wagon.
> 
> So yeah, I saw this prompt and dove on in.

Like most factors in his life, Hannibal Lecter chose the particular grocery store located on the unimportant corner of Maple street very carefully. It had taken him years to find it and know that it was for sure the one he would always return to but for many months before that, he felt as if he'd been torturing himself.

So many times Hannibal attempted to locate the perfect market for him, dutifully going to a market or super mart – not opposed to the thought of chains – but each time, he only managed to get to the first aisle of packaged goods before he left. He was disgusted by the bright colors and bold lettering on the boxes of brand cereals, the bruised apples that somehow always were on display, and the lazy, unrefined cuts of meat that were available in the meat departments.

He was unapologetically picky about where he chose to obtain the more fundamental ingredients for his meals, going so far as killing a butcher when he was sure he had discovered the perfect market, only to have it be ruined by his inexperience. Yes, Hannibal was unapologetic only because he was careful in all things related to food, mindful of the condition of the produce and the cuts the butcher used when he had the taste for the more acceptable choices of meat.

It was quite by chance that Hannibal found the market on Maple street but then again, the doctor was not opposed to delightful surprises when they related to food. The market itself was small but well stocked with ingredients that were a mixture of imports and local favorites, exotic spices sitting alongside brand noodles that were common but acceptably delicious. Their fruits were of the normal variety but they were fresh and the vegetables were much the same. The meat department was something of a pleasure for Hannibal, enjoying how skilled the worker's hands were as they prepared his stock.

Quite simply, Hannibal fell into an appreciative love of the market, eager to go back on a weekly basis to stock his pantry and fridge with their products.

It was Wednesday when Jack Crawford called the good Doctor and asked if it would be alright to speak with him, the doctor himself offering to discuss whatever it was over a home cooked meal. With an inkling of what he would cook for his guest, Hannibal was quite pleased when he went to his pantry and found that he was missing some of the necessities for the meal, already thinking of the grocery store that he was always eager to return to.

For many individuals, the necessity to shop for their food was a routine activity that could sometimes lean more on the side of tedium but there's something in that tedium that Hannibal appreciated. He walked into the market, side stepping a Mother and her children, and nodding when he's greeted by the owner's daughter, who has long come to recognize him. He doesn't bother with the shopping carts due to feeling as if they incite a need to wander and consume too much. 

Plus, there's something about touching them that made him feel as if he were cattle, dully pushing a cart around a store while he stared off into nothing. 

No, Hannibal preferred the basket, tucking the handle into the crook of his arm and beginning the normal pattern of his visit; he kept the meats and cold foods for last, heading straight for the rows of aisles that were stocked to bursting. He didn't mind the fact that some of the rows were near bursting with their stock, jars of jelly, honey, and syrup practically suffocating each other. He found that he rather enjoyed the image though he couldn't exactly say why since the similar image in another market drove him to leave.

He plucked from the shelf a small jar of honey that normally was hidden behind the the bottles of its similar companion, admiring its local label that originally caught his attention from its charmingly elegant design. He had tried the honey on a whim some weeks ago and found it surprisingly delightful. 

Hannibal remembered that his pantry was also running low on coffee beans and headed over to the appropriate aisle; there were packaged brands as necessitated by the common masses but for the slow brewer, who preferred the taste of freshly ground beans, there were plastic containers filled with a variety of flavors. Hannibal gently separated a bag from its roller and eyed the numerous choices available to him for his coffee needs. He wasn't particularly picky when it came to flavors, enjoying to broaden his palette rather than stick with one specific kind, but he knew the brand well from his previous visits and trusted it. He also knew that Jack Crawford preferred a bolder coffee flavor to sip after his meals, deciding to choose one that was labelled as dark and especially bold. 

From there, he knew that he needed to get the choice of side dishes for the dinner, heading over to the produce department and going straight for the vegetables that were fresh from a misting of cold water. Green beans would make a magnificent addition to the pork he wanted to make, eyeing the basket with their name printed on the tag. 

Again, he plucked the plastic bag from the roller and took a few of the stalks in his fingers so that he could look at them closely, inspecting them for any imperfections. Their color was even, texture smooth and hard; he dropped them into the bag and repeated the process, once again picking out if they were any unsightly blemishes since they would be served whole. Once he was satisfied with the amount, he tied the bag and carefully placed it in his basket.

A section down from the green beans, Hannibal saw there were baby tomatoes on display and thought that they too would make a lovely side dish for the meal. He prepared another bag, once more patient as he inspected the tomatoes for anything that was off about them. So many people around him gathered whatever bunch of vegetables or fruits that were in front of him, not bothering or caring at all for what they put into their bodies, but Hannibal could never be like that. 

A woman excused herself as she sidled up beside him, distracting him momentarily from inspecting another tomato as she leaned down to retrieve a head of lettuce. She didn't pay it any mind, not bothering to look at the torn leaf near the bottom as she practically dumped it into the prepared bag and tossed it in her cart. Hannibal stared at her another moment longer before he went back to inspecting his tiny tomato, content to assuage himself of its quality. 

Hannibal was once again distracted though when he heard another man come up on his other side, reaching high for a package of baby tomatoes already pre-packaged and waiting to be taken off the row. Their eyes connected for half a second before the man gave a forced upturn of his lips and wandered off. The Doctor went back to his task, inspecting another baby tomato. 

He wanted to be sure of its quality before purchasing, not after when he would open the plastic container and see that only a few met the high standards required to be worthy of his meal.

Once he finished, he twisted and tied the bag securely and carefully placed it down into the basket, his mind realizing that in his belly there was a tendril of excitement from the prospect of the next section he was going to visit. He knew his own routine enough to understand that he was moving onward to the meat department, his favored section of the entire store.

The crowd of the casual shoppers seemed to be concentrated to the aisles and produce for the day, the meat department having only one customer in the line waiting for their order; she rolled on her heels while she waited, her basket heavily sagging in the crook of her arm as she accepted the packaged meat and thanked the worker behind the counter. 

As soon as the woman left, the worker looked up to greet the next customer in line, his smile widening upon the sight of the doctor. He instantly recognized Hannibal, having become accustomed to the sight of the finely dressed man, who appreciated the cuts of his tender meats and knew which truly was the pick of the stock. 

“Dr. Lecter, good to see you again. How are you?”

“I'm doing quite well, thank you. Yourself?” Hannibal was casual about his greeting, his eyes maintaining contact while easily knowing that his face gave off the air of interest. 

“Oh, you know, the usual. I didn't even know you were coming in today... Didn't I tell you to call in your order so that you didn't have to wait?”

“And deprive myself of watching you work? You won't scare me off so easily.”

Hannibal chuckled at the companionably banter, an easy going back and forth before the worker asked what he would like and went to his task once the doctor told him his order. Unlike the other customers who would wait behind the register for their order to come up, Hannibal preferred to stand in front of the display case, if only because the see through plastic gave him the perfect sight of watching the worker handle and cut the meat he requested. 

Hannibal sighed to himself, enjoying the hidden refinement of the man who so skillfully cut through the meat, an artist with a knife much like a painter with a paintbrush; one would never have guessed it from the street that he was so gifted and Hannibal felt a tender sort of curiosity over whether the man would be able to handle the lungs of a human being with such precision?

His hands handled the slab of meat carefully, fingers skillfully sliding the knife effortlessly. 

There definitely was a fondness that stole over Hannibal as he watched the man work, the same scrutinizing eye that he held over the produce obvious as he watched hands meticulously slice the loin of the pork and set it aside onto its prepared wrapper.

When the man was finished, Hannibal took his package from the worker and thanked him again for providing such great service before he headed for the check out counter. 

No matter which store he went to and regardless of his great fondness for the current one, waiting in the line was still such a chore to him; he hated being crowded by Mothers and their children, the elderly that didn't respect a person enough to give them a decent amount of space. Hannibal kept to himself while in the line, pointedly ignoring anyone's questing stares until it was his turn; carefully he laid out all his purchases, making sure not to bruise them in some misguided fit to go faster for anyone behind him that was impatient.

He greeted the cashier politely, paid for his goods with nary a word, and found himself staring at the bagger because he knew that if he stared, the worker would slow down and carefully place everything into the plastic bag rather than shove anything.

Once he was back in the parking lot, a relief stole over Hannibal for while he truly enjoyed visiting the grocery store, his favorite part was still the preparation and execution of the meal.

**Author's Note:**

> I burst out into laughter while I was editing this! XD It's just hilarious because it's so serious and yet it's almost a crackfic to me. I mean, it's just Hannibal shopping!


End file.
